


It's lonely here without you

by Ms_Julius



Series: Tumblr Prompts (SINF) [2]
Category: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel - Michael Scott
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 21:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15649422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Julius/pseuds/Ms_Julius
Summary: Billy is on a road trip, but when the evening comes, he ends up a bit homesick.





	It's lonely here without you

While lying his drained body on top of the thick hotel mattress, Billy couldn’t help but throw a quick glance towards his phone on the nearby desk. He had set it to charge about ten minutes ago, and already he had an itching desire to grab it and go through his messages and missed calls just in case he hadn’t heard them at the first time. He had only been back in America for a day, and already he was missing the sounds of his own bedroom back in Paris, and more importantly, the man who occupied that said bedroom with him. Machiavelli had promised to keep a close eye on him via phones and skype, but it simply wasn’t the same as being physically close together. And even if Billy was truly enjoying the company of his old friends and their long-planned road trip across the States, he knew that something was missing.

For the first time in a quite a while, Billy felt lonely.

However, after a few minutes of quiet brooding, he managed to distract himself with a notion of a free cable TV, a courtesy offered to him by the hotel’s staff after they mistakenly had directed him into a room that obviously had housed a rather rowdy pack of people just before his arrival. Billy could still smell the odor coming from behind the closed bathroom door, the one even the staff had refused to open in front of him.

There were a number of channels to choose from, and after a moment of browsing he settled on an old movie from the 80’s. It was a comedy, from what he could tell, and with a contented sigh he pressed his back against the fluffy pillows and immersed himself into the film. It didn’t seem to be a long one either, so he’d have time to finish it in one sitting.

A perfect, quiet evening.

Calming, an excellent chance for him to restore his energy and get ready for tomorrow.

To just lay down and relax.

… He couldn’t take it! He had to see his phone, to make sure he hadn’t accidentally put it on silence and missed Niccolò’s calls. Or maybe the battery of his phone had actually died down completely, and he had forgotten to turn it back on before plugging it in.

Tossing the pillow he had been hugging, Billy jumped up and made his way to the low desktop beside the king-sized bed he had been resting upon. The screen of the phone was dark and the small, red light in the top corner indicated that the charging process was still ongoing as he pulled the wire off. He tapped in his code, starting to open up the message app as soon as the screen came to life. There seemed to be one unread text hanging on the upper line, but Billy had the feeling that it had been there for a while. Pulling the additional information of the message up, his assumption was confirmed; it was a text from his insurance company, the one he had been ignoring ever since he had seen it pop up first time.

It could wait a little longer. He slipped the text back to the “unread” category, now backing all the way back to the main screen where his call-button was.

He should just call to Mac. Even if they’d agreed that the older man was the one to contact him, Billy saw no harm in changing the plan around. After all, they were together. He had the right to call to his boyfriend whenever he pleased, especially since he was not able to see him face to face and was feeling more than a bit homesick at the moment, right?

He had the number on speed-dial, so a few seconds later the phone was tooting, the line cracking ever so slightly. Maybe it was because of the distance between them. Billy had never had much faith in modern telephone connections, and he’d noticed during his travels that they rarely worked as they should have been when the two people were on a different continents.

But after a couple of minutes, he heard a muted voice coming on at the other end of the line.

“Machiavelli.” The Italian sounded tired. In fact, he sounded half asleep.

Still, hearing him speak brought a smile on Billy’s lips. “Mac! It’s me. I was feeling a bit alone so I thought I’d call you instead!”

There was a moment of silence. “Instead of what?” The magician’s bewilderment was clear despite Billy not being able to see his frowning face.

“Instead of you calling me! Jeez Mac, we went through this twice before I left,” Billy said, glancing at the clock on the desk. “So, what’re you up to?”

“Billy, it’s 04:00 am here, what do you think I’m up to?”

“Umm…”

“You do remember that there is a seven hour time difference between Paris and Texas?”

“Yeah, sure…”

“You forgot.”

A nervous laughter was the only answer Billy came up with. He had, indeed, forgotten that while it was only an early evening for him, for his partner it was nearly a morning.

No wonder Mac sounded so exhausted.

“Well, it’s lonely here without you. I wanted to hear your voice.” Which was true, but Billy doubted it would do much to level out Niccolò’s temper. The man was rather precise about his sleeping schedule.

“And now you’ve heard it. Does that mean I can get back to sleep?”

A small lump formed in Billy’s throat when he heard the words. “Uhh, I guess. But don’t you miss me at all?”

“No.”

“Mac!” He was getting whiny, and he knew it.

“It’s quite calming, to be honest. I have this quiet,  _clean_ house all for myself. And it even stays that way once I leave for errands.” Now the muffled voice carried a teasing edge. “One might get used to this kind of luxury every now and then.”

Billy huffed. “You didn’t get much hugs when you were a kid, did you?”

He caught the end of a deep chuckle through the static line. “More than you’d think.” After a small pause, Machiavelli continued: “I can talk for a moment, but no more than few minutes. I need to sleep before my alarm goes off.”

The wide grin was back to Billy’s face in a heartbeat. “Yeah, sure. Whatever works for you, man.” He was just glad Niccolò hadn’t hung up already. With a practiced ease, they slid into a conversation, started by Billy’s absurd mutters as usual.

“So, earlier today I saw this cute little poodle padding down a street with his owner. He had such a pure white fur, and when I talked to the guy who was walking him I found out that he was a poodle/havanese mix.”

A sigh was audible despite the crackling of the bad reception. “Is this story going somewhere, Billy?”

“I’m getting to that! Anyway, we talked for a while and I pet the dog. But once I left, I started to think about dogs in general. Mac, how come when we domesticated dogs from wolves, they ended up looking so different now, but cats have stayed pretty much the same? Isn’t that weird?”

“I am not immensely fond of either of those species, so forgive me but I sincerely have no idea, nor am I too keen to find out,” Machiavelli said dryly. “Furthermore, biology has never been my strong suit.”

Billy smirked at that. It was rare for Niccolò to admit he wasn’t expert on something. Just goes to show how tired the man must be. Billy always enjoyed their late-night talks, but over the months he had noticed that his older partner offered very little betting in midst of these conversations compared to when he was actually awake.

“Huh, point taken. So, what kind of animals do you like then? I bet snakes are pretty high on the list,” Billy said as he lied back on the bed and let his gaze roam across the ceiling above.

“They are, but I wouldn’t take them as pets. Too much of a hasle.”

“Then what would make a perfect pet?”

Once again there was a few seconds of silence before the answer.

“I’ve always been intrigued by parrots.”

Billy’s eyes widened. “Parrots? As in those big-ass birds that can talk?” He never knew Niccolò found them interesting. But then again, he couldn’t help but relish the surprising nature of their relationship. He was learning new stuff about Mac all the time, and he loved it.

Over the line, Niccolò spoke out: “Not every individual can talk, Billy. But yes, I would like to have one of them as a pet.”

“Aah, because they’re smart like you?” He had to tease. It felt like it’d been too long since he had last poked fun at the older man.

“No, they remind me of you, actually.”

Well, that was surprising. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes. They constantly want attention, they have a tendency to repeat your speech back to you without adding much insight to it, and the only way to shut them up is to throw a blanket over them.”

Should have known.

Glancing quickly at the clock, Billy noted that it was steadily creeping past the half-ten already. They’d have to say goodbye soon, but not before he’d had a final jab at his lover.

“Hmm, I don’t know Mac. I can think of a few other ways to shut  _me_ up.”

He grinned as the silence went on, seeing in his mind the way Niccolò’s ears would burn red, as they always did when he began to tease him like this.

A sound of a throat clearing followed the quiet period. “Yes, well, we can see to that once you’ve returned safely from your travels.”

The simple sentence forced Billy to slip his eyes shut, a serene smile replacing the cocky grin he had worn a mere seconds ago.

He really missed his darling.

“I’d like that.”


End file.
